In this contribution for Snap Post Vlog, I explore the writing bug that I’ve had since I was young. I haven’t written in years so I would love feedback. Please give it openly and freely.
He absently knelt again to pick up the ribbon, still looking out of the window. She always said how childish it was to wear a ribbon in her hair, all the while tying it into a fat of a bow as she could manage. He rubbed the silk against the pads of his thumb and forefinger. He had a lot of things of hers, but this one reminded him of her the most.
With a heaving sigh he turned, clutching the ribbon, toward the stairs leading down to the first floor of the house. On the foot of the stairs sat Lily, his granddaughter. She looked up at him with large inquiring eyes, her small hand reaching up toward the blue ribbon. At first he resisted, not wanting to let go. Then slowly he opened up his fingers, feeling cramps he hadn’t realized were there. Lily cautiously felt the fabric and smiled tentatively at her grandfather. He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath.
When he opened his eyes, Lily stood before him, holding out the ribbon back to him with concern etched around her brow. He took it from her with a gasp of a drowning man breaking the surface of the water. He started to clutch the ribbon back to his chest but stopped. He looked at Lily. Feeling as if he was moving through water, he slowly took the ribbon, turned Lily around, and tied the ribbon onto her thick brown ponytail.
He made the bow as fat as it could get.